Finished this one up awhile ago, but thought it deserved further mention. The book is Herman Wouk’s “Don’t Stop The Carnival“. Set on the ficticious Caribbean island of Amerigo, but closely modelled on the St. Thomas of the early 60’s, this book hilariously deals with the somtimes manic life of the Virgin Islands. Even dated, the book abounds with details that still ring true today, and ought to be required reading for anyone looking at any sort of serious involvement with the VI. i’m now fairly certain that everyone i know here has read it at least once. Jimmy Buffet even adapted it and made it into a musical. Go figger.
July 3, 2005
June 14, 2005
bloomings
Found a great naturalist’s field guide on one of the many bookshelves in the new house. i read it last week, and since then, i’m been amazed at how much more i’m picking up about the plants and animals around here. Of course, it’s also the start of summer, with all sorts of new flowers and plumages. The shallows are full of many tiny baby reef-fish, which makes for fun viewing along the edges of the docks during the requisite noonhour swim. The Laughing Gulls are exhibiting their breeding colours and fantastic jungle-bird calls.
Lately, the biggest, most colourful addition to the landscape has been the flowering of the Flambouyants; huge trees that just blend in the rest of the year are now thick with these wild orangish-red blossoms. As striking as any deciduous tree in fall up north, but made even more so by the contrast with the lush green all around them.
The Madagascar Periwinkles are in full bloom on the beaches, along with my other favourite underfoot beach vine, Beach Morning Glory. The Sea Grapes are coming out again, along with crops of mangoes, papayas, and pineapple. These all grow in profusion on the north side of the island (where the new house is), and my neighbor Rose’s fruit stand has a great selection for cheap. i’ve been informed that the pineapples here are smaller and less juicy than the typical Hawaiian varieties, but i couldn’t say for sure myself. However, i find them to be less sweet and more “pineappley” than those i’ve had from markets up north.
The sounds are alson subtley changing. Sometimes it’s just the Laughing gulls, but i’ve also heard (but very seldom seen) a new migrant cuckoo in the trees, with great songs of its own. At 5 am or so in the morning, just as the sun starts to peek over the horizon, the frogs and crickets swell to maximum volume, and are joined by the earliest-risers of the birds; i really have to get the microphones out and record the sounds!
During the day, most of the fauna is hiding from the heat. Even the sun-loving anoles seem less lively. However, in the cool underbrush on the northside, in the undeveloped areas around Smuggler’s Cove, i’ve found some great critters, such as some beautiful purple hermit crabs living up in the trees, as well as some species of glass lizard which i had never seen before, or even knew existed here.
Still not much in the way of spider sightings, although James was stung by a scorpion a couple days ago. i expressed my surprise that i had yet to see one (they’re supposed to be all over the place), and was told that they’re usually not much larger than a cricket, and very pale in colour. i must have unknowingly crunched over plenty by now! Far more annoying in the yard right now are the fire-ants. They stealth over your feet or up your leg until there’s a few dozen in place, then seem to all sting simultaneously! The stings pack wallop enough, but then go on to itch like crazy, and in most folks (myself included) terminate in small raised white blisters. Now that i’ve made the move to socklessness, i’m more aware of these little guys than ever. The mosquitoes, however, are definately on the decline, as most all of the standing fresh water has dried up, despite the occosional torrents of rain.
i’m hoping to get back up to Sage Mountain sometime soon and see what other life is in bloom around here.
June 2, 2005
island time
Out west, there’s “Chilcotin Time”. Closer to home, “Cariboo Time”. ‘Course, down here, it’s “Island Time”. In the case of the former two, it’s an example of delayed action, a pause before the effort. Down here, it’s a case of some things never happening at all. i’m beginning to see that the latter has some justification, after living here for awhile.
There’s a passage from Herman Wouk’s “Don’t Stop The Carnival” that pretty much sums it up:
The West Indian is not exactly hostile to change, but he is not much inclined to believe in it. This comes from a piece of wisdom that his climate of eternal summer teaches him. It is that, under all the parade of human effort and noise, today is like yesterday, and tomorrow will be like today; that existance is a wheel of recurring patterns from which no one escapes; that all anybody does in this life is live for awhile then die for good, without finding out much; and that therefore the idea is to take things easy and enjoy the passing time under the sun.
Since i’ve been here, i’ve remained focussed, “eyes on the prize”, but i’ve also slowed down. The speed of life here is slow, yet inexorable, and there’s really nothing to be gained by trying to outpace it. Still, the “climate of eternal summer” is starting to get to me (and not just the heat!); my life up to now has been largely governed by the seasons. i marked my past and future by the passings of summers and winters. Now, my Canadian physiology is expecting a change of season, and naturally, after summer comes winter! Not so here… There is no milestone of climate, no abrupt passing of seasons. Lately, the most obvious difference is that most of the resident pelicans have been replaced by striking black-headed gulls, the splashing dives of the former replaced by the raucous Hollywood “jungle-monkey” calls of the latter.
Not that i’m eager for snow again, not quite yet…
May 20, 2005
missed
i missed a certain friend for the first time ever today. for about thirty seconds, i think. i walked off the feeling before it got to me. i mean, i’ve missed her before, but it’s always been the lover, the promise, the future, the affection, etc., that i’ve felt missing. Never the friend.
The curiosity of that feeling has struck me more than the feeling itself. i mean, why does it seem so unusual to miss a friend?
